


tender is the night ( where do i flee? )

by circleofplanets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Epic Friendship, Infidelity, M/M, Model Tom Riddle, Romance, Singer Harry Potter, slight fluff if u squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circleofplanets/pseuds/circleofplanets
Summary: Regretting Tom Riddle was never an option. Turns out, neither was leaving him.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Tom Riddle (mentioned), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 56
Kudos: 433





	tender is the night ( where do i flee? )

The loud music reverberates through the walls of the dingy club, loud enough to shatter the false, advertised soundproof barricade and travel outside with gusto. The upholstery was ancient and the whisky tasted watery. But this was one of those rare times where Harry didn't mind it. His band had just signed a deal. Onward and Upward were now legit.

He felt like he was spinning on top of a fuckin' mountain peak.

Boa Studios was a newly established company, not even a blip on the map right now. An enterprise started by a group of six women and now had double the workforce. All the members had qualms about signing with the company but one round table meeting and the band walked out with a record deal.

His head felt fuzzy.

God he was so over the moon if he was getting drunk off Orla's shitty, adultered whiskey. He turned around on the stool and spied Hermione rolling a joint on one of the cornerside tables through the crowd of writhing bodies. He also found Luna dancing with an auburn haired girl.

He took a sip. Sometimes it was hard to understand how The Shed was able to attract so many customers. Sometimes it's easy enough.

Roddy Ricch’s The Box played in the background and getting laid was on the forefront. He cast a sweeping look at the crowd and clucked his tongue in disappointment. He sensed the seat beside him being occupied but he ignored it.

Fuckin' shit-swamp place.

Why they chose to come here on such a special night is beyond him. He was almost sure they had better taste when they were in college.

His head suddenly felt too fuzzy and his grip on the glass slipped. A flash of skin and the glass was being offered to him again. Harry looked up and oh, he could write a song or two about those eyes.

The man offering him his drink was beyond handsome. Clad in a black turtleneck and grey pants, the stranger looked comfortable in a scene which didn't fit him. Roving his eyes quickly over the patrician nose, thin lips and slightly hollow cheeks, Harry took his drink back.

"Thank you. I didn't think it was possible to get drunk from water but I guess miracles do happen."

The stranger chuckled at Harry's attempt to crack a joke and the sound twisted his gut. Yes, Harry wanted this man in his bed tonight.

"Well, the fact that this pub is still in business is miracle enough."

That pulled a wide smile on Harry's face and he opened his mouth to reply when he was stopped short.

"But the biggest miracle is seeing a beautiful man as you here tonight. I must count my lucky stars," the crimson-eyed stranger finished with a sensual tone to his voice and took a sip of his wine.

Suave suave suave. _Danger danger danger._

It really was too bad that Harry had a tendency of driving past danger signs without a glance back.

He twirled his drink and gazed at the man from under his eyelashes. "Count your stars if you get with me. I'm not easy to please."

Right now he was as easy as they came.

The stranger gave a toothed smile and extended his hand forward.

"Tom."

This man suddenly seemed familiar. But from where?

The raven haired male took Tom's hand.

"Harry."

He gasped inaudibly when Tom suddenly twisted his hand and brushed his lips against the dorsum. He could feel his cheeks flush with a blaze of heat at a speed that was slightly embarrassing. Harry was no fuckin’ virgin and certainly not a _fuckin' blushing virgin_.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Harry."

The music had switched to something fast and bounding, making it indistinguishable between the beat and Harry's own heartbeat. This night was going to be memorable, if not special.

✶ ◉ ✶

Tom captured his mouth with a brutality that turned on Harry immeasurably. They were in Tom's hotel suite since it had been the closest to the pub and they definitely couldn't wait longer. Tom had slammed him against the wall the moment they had entered, their clothes quickly divesting with quick work of their fingers. Harry breathed a deep, guttural moan when the handsome man wrapped around him licked a stripe against his neck.

"Tom. Tom. TOM."

Tom finally looked up with the gaze of a predator ready to ravish him right there, place and time be damned. Harry almost let him.

"Take me to bed, sweetheart."

His words brook no argument. Tom didn’t waste a second in lifting Harry from under his legs and quickly made his way to the bedroom. He threw Harry on the lavish bed and quickly climbed over him. Their erections rubbed against each other and both of them moaned loudly.

"Such a lovely sound."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You talk too much. Shut up and make me count my lucky stars."

Tom flashed a breathtaking smirk.

"Gladly."

✶ ◉ ✶

Tom Riddle.

Youngest model to walk the runway of Dolce and Givenchy. Currently the highest paid. Graduated from Harvard in business. Left one promising career for another completely. Also married to the Black heiress, Bellatrix Black-Riddle.

All according to the wikipedia page that Harry had pulled up in the early hours of the morning.

Tom had felt too familiar. Had felt like he was lingering around the edges, his silhouette escaping the raven-haired male. Tom's face was literally on the billboard in front of The Shed. Harry was such a fuckin' idiot.

He pressed the heels of his palm against his eyes and suppressed the urge to scream. The male over whom Harry was losing his mind was still enjoying his sleep. Now the most pertinent question was should he ask about it and fight Tom on this?

He turned his head to find Riddle's burgundy eyes open and observing every inch of his body.

"Good morning, Darling."

"Shut up." And then Harry pounced on him.

Well they had already crossed the line unconsciously. Did it really matter how many times it was crossed now? It's not like he was ever gonna see Riddle again anyway.

✶ ◉ ✶

Harry couldn't enjoy the smoke no matter how much he tried. He could still feel the heavy boulder of fuckin' feelings that he had been dragging for the past month tied to him (weighing him down like a pair of wet clothes). Feelings that he had developed despite knowing better.

Tom Riddle, much to Harry's chagrin, had not remained a one night stand. Instead he had upgraded to multiple night stands in a week and then a lover in a month. Or that's how Harry viewed him. He didn't know what Tom thought of him as. Probably a time-pass.

Tom had made a place in his heart like the parasitic leech he was. Making Harry get used to little gifts whenever they met, making him get used to cooking together whenever hungry, stealing kisses whenever possible. And Harry, like the doorknob he was, hadn't realised that the warm feeling in his gut wasn't due to growing libido but actually love.

He had decided that today was going to be Judgement Day. He would confess it all to Tom and deal with it for once and all.

Until he had seen her. Seen them together.

He had entered Le Marche to grab a pack of beer for Ron and cigarettes for Luna. He had been squatting in front of the refrigerator when he had spotted them picking fuckin' tomatoes and healthy shit like that, grocery shopping like any ordinary couple. And that had alone squeezed his heart with pain and envy. Harry and Tom had never actually stepped out together in public, always meeting each other in their apartments. It didn't matter how many times Harry had tried to hint at it, he never received a response.

He was not that big of an idiot to not have realised it was an act of self-preservation on Tom’s part but it was not like he was demanding them to hold fuckin’ hands and skip off into the merry sunset. They could have just gone as friends, just a change of scenery. Somewhere that was not their mundane apartments.

So to see Tom casually sling an arm around Bellatrix out in the open, steal a kiss from her and probably prepare to go back to cook together shifted something in Harry. Something infinitesimally small that had the power to bring Harry down to his knees had he been standing.

He had seen his albatross.

He doesn't remember how he had managed to pay for his stuff and escape from there. All he could remember was the sharp burning in his eyes, the closing-up of his throat and the tightening in his chest.

Now he stood at ten o'clock at night outside Tom's apartment complex, a beer in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth gearing up to get his heart broken again in the span of a day. Harry let out a huff of laugh. Such a pathetic arsehole he was to think Tom would choose a five month affair over a marriage of three years. He threw the bottle in the trash with disgust and stamped out the cigarette.

Harry was a fool. But he was a brave-hearted fool.

He would end this tonight. He deserved all this , all the past guilt that he had shoved down coming back up. He had helped a husband cheat on his wife. He definitely didn't deserve the happy ending in this whole freakin' mess.

He trudged his way into the building and took the stairs. Tom lived in a pent suite, separate from Bellatrix. He had once said it was because he didn't like the Black manor but Harry thought that was bullshit. It probably had more to do with Tom liking his own personal space. Almost too quickly, he was in front of the suite door. He could feel a sense of dread creeping into his body and a cowardly voice telling him to let this ruse go on a little longer. Harry took a long, calming breath and rung the doorbell. He nervously fiddled with his coat as he waited for the audible footsteps to open the door.

Tom was still dressed in the same clothing from Le Marche and had the same, indulgent smile on his face. He quickly reared the green-eyed male into his arms and gave him a long kiss.

God how was Harry supposed to give this up?

Then a hand cupped his cheek sweetly and he was reminded of the kiss he had witnessed in the morning. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped in his pants and he quickly disentangled himself from Tom. He ignored the questioning glance thrown his way and entered the flat. He clenched his hands into tight fists and whirled to face Riddle.

"We need to break up."

He saw Tom's eyes widen in shock and his steps falter. Harry felt an ache bloom in his chest as he looked at the man he loved with a desperation, a desire he never had felt before in his life.

Then that beautiful, beautiful face shuttered up and all he could see was the man married to Bellatrix Black. Riddle adjusted his body to a relaxed slouch and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Why?" The simple inquiry stunned Harry a little. He was pretty sure that Riddle knew why. Didn’t he?

"Y-you are married."

"Well Harry, I was married long before this...thing between us started. What changed?"

Thing. This thing. Not relationship but 'this thing'. Harry wanted to cry and smash everything in this apartment to pieces. So he was right. Tom really didn't think much of their relationship. God, his heart literally took a nosedive there.

"Harry, will you just spit it out?"

"Was she here?"

Tom simply blinked at him.

"Bellatrix?"

Realisation dawned on Riddle's face.

"Did you cook together? Or did you have sex first and then cook like we both tend to do?" Harry's voice kept getting smaller as he continued speaking. "Did you ruffle her hair when she said something cheeky? Kissed her to shut her up like you do to me?"

Harry pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to stop the tears. He felt like if he spoke more he would overturn the bucket and a gush of salted tears would flow.

"Harry, darling-" Tom's soft voice almost broke the dam.

Harry moved forward and cupped the face of the man who was bound to break his heart.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, I'm in love with you and I want to be with you properly. " He waited to see Tom's reply and when he looked into Tom's eyes, he knew. He knew he was not going to get the answer every fibre of his being was desperate for.

This was it.

Harry stood on his toes and kissed the lips that he had kissed a hundred times before and felt the body he had felt a hundred times before. How, how was Harry supposed to leave him when even the idea of breaking apart right now felt like he had been stabbed a hundred times?

His emotions took a savage turn as it dawned on him that if he broke apart now, he would not be able to kiss Tom again. His hand started to grab Tom hungrily and the kiss became hot and wet. His lust transformed into Isadora's scarves, caught in the wheel and tying a noose around him. He could feel the kiss stroke the fire of desperation and soon Tom was bending him over the dining table, his hands grabbing everywhere, leaving no place untouched.

He could feel the ache from arching too much and reveled in it. He wanted to fuse every part, every molecule of his body with Tom, until he didn't know where he ended and Tom began. He wanted that possessiveness. That _obsession._

This never could have lasted long. Any further and Harry would have done everything in his power to make Tom his. Only his. In a fluid movement, Harry wrapped his legs around Tom's waist and pushed up to link his arms around his lover. He doesn't remember how they got to the bed or when their clothes disappeared. All he could remember was the touch of his skin, feel of lips and fingers inside him. And then Tom entered him and he could feel himself falling, falling.

They went to sleep with cum slathered on their bodies, arms splayed around each other and hopelessness hanging in the air.

✶ ◉ ✶

Harry was prone to waking up in the middle of the night to create a song when the inspiration would just hit him. A single tune or lyric won't let him go until he expanded on it and made it complete.

He could remember one such night among many when he had woken up and left Tom's embrace to work on a tune he had in his head. It had been four o'clock in the morning and he had been writing under a spell when a cup of hot chocolate had been placed in front of him.

Tom had looked so rumpled and snuggle worthy with his hair in disarray and the blanket wrapped around him, vestiges of sleep still clinging to his eyelids. Harry had planted a short kiss then and there on him and god, he can still recall Tom's cute laugh.

He had expected the crimson-eyed male to leave and go back to sleep. But instead the male had taken a seat close to Harry and curled up on the chair with a book and his own cup of hot chocolate. Harry had named the song 'a night worth remembering'.

The green-eyed male took one last look at the lean body of his ex-lover and got up from the wooden chair with a scrape. He was fully dressed and had his belongings in a small duffel bag. He didn't have much to carry since he used more than half of Tom's things. He turned and was making his way out of the bedroom when he heard it.

'Stay.'

A small whisper that had him whirling around. But Tom's eyes were still closed and not a muscle was twitching. He looked same as he had when Harry had been watching him for nearly half an hour just now. The raven haired male shook his head. Did he imagine it? Was it real or was he so desperate that he made it up?

More importantly, did it matter?

He thought and couldn't deny the fact that of course it did. If Tom asked it of him, Harry would stay a thousand times. But he waited. And waited. Then he quickly rushed out of the pent suite and left the sound of a slammed door in his wake.

He didn't hear the breaking of glass nor the cry of frustration.

✶ ◉ ✶

Life had more or less returned to how it had been before Tom. He would record songs with his band, go out for dinner with them and return to his apartment where he would create songs till daybreak. If he had started writing songs that ranged from melancholy to downright weepy, his friends certainly hadn't said anything.

He had actively avoided visiting The Shed for drinks. He didn't want to stumble across He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Thought-Of in case the man came there. Harry wouldn't be able to bear the idea of Tom seeking another bedmate. He wanted to stay in denial as long as possible.

That didn't mean he didn't drink when he got home, sometimes a little too much when everything got a little too much. He had one day become a sopping fucking mess and speed dialled Hermione who had instantly come rushing with Ron. A look at the state he had been and she had simply passed a lighted blunt to him and told him to explain.

He had spilled his guts out to them, rattled the whole story albeit in bits and pieces. It had taken a while for them parse out the jagged pieces of his story but soon they had snuggled up to him and wrapped a blanket around them, creating a multi-human burrito. The warmth, the clear acceptance without any judgement had made him smile. And resulted in another round of crying though.

It had been two months since then, three months since he had last seen Tom. He felt in a better place after a long while. The heartbreak was no longer consuming his every thought, creating a funnel that sucked all his emotions. He could see Ron and Hermione being happy with his progress and so did his other friends. The others still didn't know but he wanted to tell them when he was completely over Tom.

Onward and Upward were set to release their album this month and he would be lying if the anxiety regarding it wasn't hollowing his stomach. Everyone was in a frenzy and tensions were running high. Songs were being criticised to shreds by one member or the other, vocals on some felt too nasally or too gravely, instrumentals not fitting the flow. It had gotten so bad that their manager, Rhonda, had simply banned them from touching anything related to their album.

"Everything is set in stone now so you little fuckers need to get your shit together," she had said one day after getting exasperated with their meddling. "If you don't like the setlist, then create new songs that will be a good alternative. Until then, shut your pie holes."

Now that had actually shut their pie holes.

After that, they had all engaged in meditative exercises while passing the blunt around the circle.

After a week, the whole group congregated at the Weasley house for Ramadan before dawn and started their fast with _suhur_. For the whole month, the group stayed there, enjoying the sense of closeness that Ramadan presented. Practicing _sawm_ together felt like a fresh break. Ron and Ginny were Muslim, Hermione was Hindu and Luna and Harry were Christians but taking part in important events of each other's faith was a common practice among them. It lead to deeper understanding among themselves of each other's individuality. It also helped Harry to stop thinking about Tom and properly focus on his surrounding and indulging in the present moment completely.

They released their album a week into Ramadan. _Taking Flight_ received positive reviews and even got an article on _Pitchfork_. They had been able to completely enjoy the feeling of elation at the response without any hindrance provided by alcohol and weed.

That night, after _iftar_ , they had danced together until their feet hurt and the ball of sunshine in the pit of their stomach had fizzled a little.

'a night worth remembering’ had become a sleeper hit and when he had received a google alert that @tomriddle had tweeted after four months of radio silence, Harry had simply deleted the notification and focussed on _Laylat al-Qadar_ and the unexpected moderate success of their debut album. He removed Tom and Bellatrix from google alert the same day.

A week after _Eid,_ Harry finally allowed himself to think of Tom. He sat in his favourite armchair with the apartment surrounded by silence and came to terms with the fact that Tom was not going to come back for him. He let go of all the hurt, the disappointment and the hope.

Frankly, he felt terrible. Letting go was increasing a sense of creeping hollowness inside him, like a part of him had been scooped out and he didn't know how to fill it. He scrambled for his phone and sent an SOS text to the group chat and curled up into himself.

He didn't how much time had passed, could have been an hour or longer before his front door was slammed open and Hermione came rushing in followed by his friends. He was enveloped in a tight hug and soon he let the tears flow out that he had been holding in for the past few months.

That night they all sat in a circle and played Spin The Bottle.

The two people that it landed on had to share one secret, one shame or one emotion that they had been hiding from the group and then resolve any tensions the duo had with each other. After that, both had to share something they were grateful for. This was a ritual that they had come up with back in college when they had realised that their group might fall apart if they kept stuffing their emotions inside instead of sharing.

It first landed on Ron and Luna. Ron shared that before Ramadan, someone had shouted slurs at him when he had come out of the mosque. He said that he had gotten angry and privately, had felt a sense of shame.

"But when all of you came to my home and took part in Ramadan, I-I...all the anger, the shame it just vanished. I am so grateful to you guys, you know," Ron's voice cracked and they all immediately hugged him.

Luna spoke about how at her new workplace, some co-workers had started calling her Loony Lovegood. But she didn't care and was happy with herself.

And so it continued, secrets ranging from fights with parents to picking nose in front of your crush. Ginny and Hermione had solved the issues related to their apartment arrangement and so had Ron and Ginny on their earlier differences on a certain song in their album. Soon it landed on Harry and everyone graced him with razor sharp attention. Harry took a deep breath and launched into the sordid saga of his previous relationship.

"Today, I thought that it was time to just...put an end to it. Throw the axe, you know. But, fuck I don't want to. It has been more than four months and I thought I would be over it but I miss him. I miss him so terribly."

After it all had ended and everyone had gone to sleep, he realised that despite the good times, Tom had made him feel ashamed of himself. The secrecy had taken an emotional toll on him and he could deny it no longer. But the time apart had made him come to a conclusion, something that would be set in stone.

He was Harry Potter and he was _nobody's shame._

✶ ◉ ✶

The practice had taken long and Harry had stayed longer for some fine tuning of their new song. The night had descended like a black cloak, enveloping the stars with it. He was unlocking his bike when he felt a pair of eyes on him and he knew without turning around just who it was. There was only one person whose presence Harry was completely attuned to.

Tom Marvolo Riddle looked ethereal and alluring under the bright light of the lamp post. His hair was perfectly coiffed and the long coat gave him lean lines. Harry blinked and yet the fucking asshole was still there. A string of fury lanced his insides and he immediately started unlocking his bike again. He had almost straddled his bike before Tom gripped his wrist and stopped him. Harry flung the offending arm.

"Harry."

He didn't bother to acknowledge the plea and instead continued his escape. Riddle called his name again and he continued to ignore. He was getting the hell out of here before he erupted like the bitchin’ Mount Vesuvius.

_"Darling, please."_

His body instantly froze.

Fuck, he was so weak. So, so weak to melt at just a simple endearment.

"Please. I just want to talk, baby," Tom pleaded and then slowly cupped his face.

After five months of separation, Harry allowed himself this weakness.

✶ ◉ ✶

"So, it's been a while."

The green-eyed male didn't bother to engage. He focussed on the clatter of spoons and scraping of plates, the noisy ambience that proved a much needed distraction.

"Your debut album was a success. Congratulations."

A grunt was his simple reply.

"You seemed busy, leaving so late. What are you—" Harry had enough. "What do you want Tom? I thought we were done."

Riddle's eyes widened then settled into something akin to fond and he took a deep sigh. "After you left, I thought I would get over you soon enough. I just had to rearrange some of the feelings and cut off their association with you."

Harry couldn't say he was surprised that Riddle had clinically analysed his feelings. He _was_ pragmatic to a fault.

"But days passed, then weeks and I couldn't get you out of my head. The apartment felt wrong, cooking alone felt wrong. On top of that, I didn't know what was happening to you and I just kept on getting terribly curious about it. You weren't there in any of your friends' Instagram stories for a few months and you didn't come back to me. You just vanished and Harry, _darling...I missed you so much."_

Harry could feel a pounding in his eardrums and the wild beating in his chest.

"W-what does this mean?" He couldn't help but stutter.

Tom looked into his eyes and dropped the _motherfuckin'_ bomb.

"I care about you a lot, sweetheart. I want you back."

In Tom's language, this was as close to an 'I love you' anyone was ever going to get and Harry could feel his stomach bottom out. He hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t prepared him for this possibility after emotionally ending the relationship from his side.

Harry clenched his hands when he remembered the hurt. The shame. And he clung to it with a fierceness.

"I was ashamed. For the first time in my life, I felt inadequate. I had dropped my morals for you, my principles that were part of who I am, even my heart at your feet and still I was not enough for you Tom. You made me feel that way, Tom. A dirty, used rag. "

Tom flinched at the words and the venomous tone of his voice. Good.

"I'm Harry Potter and I'm _nobody's shame_."

A sudden wave of satisfaction and pride went through his heart. He had finally said it and happily realised that he didn't feel that way anymore.

"And I refuse to go back to that." With that, Harry felt the conversation had come to an end. He was getting up to leave the restaurant when Tom's next words stopped him dead.

"I divorced Bellatrix."

"What?"

Tom's lips quirked at Harry's dumbfounded expression before he smoothed it out. "I wanted you and only you, Harry. I wanted you back and I realised for that to happen, she had to go. Nothing less was going to work.”

But oh, Tom wasn't done. He got up and came round to Harry. A gasp left him when the man he still missed in the dead of the night dropped on his knees and cupped his face. "I want to be in a proper relationship with you, baby." Then his grip turned fierce and he almost whispered against Harry's parted lips.

"And you were never my shame. Not even for a moment."

✶ ◉ ✶

After having dinner in almost complete silence, they had gone back to Tom's apartment and curled up with each other on the bed. And then they talked. About their time together and their time apart. About their feelings of despair and hope. They kissed in between and then went back to talking.

"When did you divorce her?"

It somehow felt sacrilegious to talk about Bellatrix Black when she was no longer a part of their dynamic.

"More than a month ago."

Harry whipped his head up at lightning speed. "The fuck?"

Tom grinned and pushed his hands through his lover's messy hair. "The same day I made the tweet, baby. Which you spectacularly ignored, by the way."

Harry's head was burning with all this new information. What tweet? And then he suddenly remembered. The tweet whose notification he had deleted. He quickly scrambled for his phone on the bedside table and searched through his mail. When he opened the mail, he felt a sense of vertigo.

Realisation dawned across Tom's face. He pressed his palms to his eyes and then let out an embarrassed laugh. Harry could see him curling inwards and he immediately pounced on him. He grabbed the face of the man who had completely upended his life and whispered," What is this?"

He held their gaze for a long time before folding. "I posted that tweet as a sign. That if you were still willing and invested, I was too. I had my PR team drop the news of my divorce the same day."

Harry felt like kissing the life out of this frustrating man and then slapping him silly. He simply huffed fondly. "I'm surprised you recognised the song."

His jaw was suddenly grabbed and then Tom was looking at him with those fierce, fierce burgundy eyes. "I remember every moment with you, darling. Don't doubt my devotion despite how things may have seemed."

Harry kissed him and let himself fall into the obsessive pit that was Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> this story turned into a mess and now it is what it is
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://circleofplanets.tumblr.com/)! Ask me anything and follow for updates!


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